


See Beneath Your Beautiful

by gackt_gratia



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, elvenandman, filled request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gackt_gratia/pseuds/gackt_gratia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An interaction between Thranduil and Galadriel as requested by elvenandman at tumblr.<br/>___</p><p>It was the second week of the spring season when the invitation came. Thranduil remembered the time of distant past. Yet, it had been years since Thranduil last attended this event. But, this year Thranduil rode his great elk en route to the Golden Wood. He rode side by side with his dear companion, the newly crowned King of Dale. However, there was still one elf who dared to question Thranduil of his choice. The elf was, nonetheless, the Lady of the Golden Wood herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See Beneath Your Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elvenandman](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=elvenandman).



**See Beneath Your Beautiful**

 

It was the second week of the spring season when the invitation came. The invitation of the annual Spring Festival held in the Caras Galadhon of Lothlorien. A celebration native to elves of Lothlorien on rejoicing and praising the Valar for their blessings, the first sunrays after the coldness of winter.

Thranduil was naturally invited. He was one of the Doriath elves left in the Middle Earth. The closest kin of the Lord of Golden Wood, Lord Celeborn who was akin to his own uncle, not by blood but by the ties of the Doriath clan.

Thranduil remembered the time of distant past when he was tagging along his father to the said festival. He remembered the beautiful lanterns strung all over the great mellyrn trees, the freshness of the grass, the sweet lingering smell of the new blooms and the beautiful songs sung all night until the new dawn.

Yet, it had been years since Thranduil last attended this event. Ever since the death of his father and along the time when the darkness crept closer to his home, where he now reigned over the realm, he was busy and had little time. The last time he attended was after his marriage. During those time, he and his wife had attended few of these festivals. However, when his wife passed away, all the cheer, the will to enjoy his life seemed to fade.

For years Thranduil merely wrote an apology letter to his uncle and sent out a delegation of chosen elves, as the emissary from the Greenwood. It was all for diplomatic purpose and maintaining a good grace among other elven realms.

But, this year Thranduil sent neither apology letter nor a delegation of chosen elves. Instead, he rode his great elk en route to the Golden Wood. He rode side by side with his dear companion, the newly crowned King of Dale.

The human stood out as the only man in the elven party. Yet all the elves of Greenwood knew that the human king was their king’s consort in all aspects but titles and their king had demanded to treat him with respect. It was not difficult for them because they knew the King of Dale was a great king. He was a humble king, brave warrior and a modest man. He was Greenwood’s beloved consort as well as the best ally.

After the small party from Greenwood arrived at Lothlorien without any hassle, there were, of course, stares from all the guards of Galadhrim upon the lone human who was walking side by side with the Elvenking of Greenwood. Thranduil  paid no mind. After all his own reputation and his icy stare was enough to quell any unwelcomed comments from lesser elves’. Not to mention he had put bold claims upon the said human, both by announcing the King of Dale as his companion and by braiding his own signature braid upon the brown locks of the oblivious human. Those signs were enough to serve as warning for the other elves to treat the human as well as they treated the Elvenking himself.

However, despite of the possessive gesture and the silent warning, there was still one elf who dared to question Thranduil of his choice. The elf was, nonetheless, the Lady of the Golden Wood herself.

 

***

Thranduil was smiling to himself whilst observing Lord Celeborn and Elrond conversing with his mortal lover across the hall. He was immensely relieved that his uncle had chosen not to ask or to frown upon the human, but was an accommodating host and welcomed the bowman without any prejudice.

Elrond, he knew without doubt would welcome the man as if his equal. The Peredhel was always close to human race. Elrond's dearest twin brother, Elros had decided to walk in a mortal path. Ever since then, the halls of Imladris were always open to those of human race and particularly the descendants of his twin brother, the Numenoreans.

It was then, the Lady Galadriel decided to break on his musing.

“Such a young and virile choice of mortal love you have chosen, Thranduil.”

The Elvenking recognized the chiding from the Noldor, laced into the lilt of the deceptively composed voice.

“Oh?”

Feigning upon indifference and ignorance even if Thranduil knew it would not fool the elven lady.

“Long since I last saw you, Thranduil Oropherion. I heard whispers of my Galadhrim of your claim upon the mortal. The Dragonslayer, whose bow had slain the Terrible Smaug, the King of the new Dale.”

Thranduil offered no reply. He glanced sideways to watch the lady beside him studied a scene played across her vision. He looked at what had captured her attention. It was across them where the three males, one man and two elves who were laughing together, his lover, her husband and her son in law.  Her face was carefully blank from any expression. But he knew. He knew what the Noldor was aiming. He was not about to give her the satisfaction of seeing him bristled. Doubtlessly, she was far older than him but, this game was not unfamiliar to him and the two of them could play it well.

“Tell me, do you entice his mortal soul upon your whim to love such an ageless soul of yours?”

Thranduil tightened his grip on his own wine goblet at the gall of the lady shown him and such accusation.

“What enticement does the Lady of the Wood mean?”

Galadriel turned to face the King of Greenwood. Her expression was annoyingly calm.

“I know of your  penchant towards beautiful sparkling gems, King of Mirkwood, as well as your vanity of your beauty.”

“Such a praise from the Lady of the Light herself. Lady Galadriel, a maiden crowned by a garland of radiance.”

Thranduil’s reply was nothing but a sneer even if he kept the intonation mild enough. He knew of his shortcomings and true, the bowman has said much about how he was mesmerized by the icy king’s beauty. Yet Bard had always said and assured him, it was not merely his beauty that captured his heart. It was Thranduil being himself, Thranduil Oropherion, The King of Greenwood, the single father of his son, the widower and the feared icy Elvenking, that had made him fall hard for the elf.

“The beauty that is burdened by scars beneath. Lies upon the stoic illusion.”

Thranduil was seething and his lips pressed together into a hard line of displeasure, seeing how the Noldor had continued on provoking his ire. No longer content to be a polite guest, he leaned forward and stared closely, crystalline blue eyes piercing the others.

“Lady, your illusion means nothing to me as well as mine means nothing to you. You may have forgotten the immunity of your craft on a fellow practitioner.”

Thranduil icy blue eyes hardened as he continued, “I may not be an apprentice of a Maia likewise you but I know you as you know me bare with scars.”

In a sudden swept, the time seemed to stop, everything was still whilst slowly Thranduil’s charm lifted off. Inch by inch the smooth skin crawled away, revealing the badly healed scar and the heavily damaged face.

“I know of your desire for a piece of land of your own rule. You left the comfort of Valinor and your brethren just so you can rule over the lesser beings, the lesser elves. I know of the shadow that you kept buried beneath your heart, I know of the harsh whispers which haunts your night, Lady Galadriel.”

Then gone was the Lady of the Golden Wood but stood before the scarred Elvenking was the terrible wraith like Queen. Her beauty was harsh and sharp-edged. Tendrils of shadows flickered angrily.

“You would be a Queen, beautiful like the dawn but terrible as the night. You would be dreadful like the storm and lightning and as treacherous as the sea. They would worship you, love you out of fear.”

The shadowed Queen glared at him. Her eyes were black like the glittering sharp but sinister obsidian. Great power and magic crackled around her, ready to be unleashed but Thranduil paid no mind.

“And they would despair, O Queen of Middle Earth.”

Fury washed through the gaunt smooth face and right before she screeched in rage, a smooth baritone voice cut the taut tension.

Then everything was normal as before. There were a song being sung, a general sound of merriment buzzed at the background, the festive movement of all the dancers, the smell of strong celebration wine permeated in the air. Galadriel was once again the elven lady bedecked by pearly white gown crowned by the garland of white radiance. Thranduil was the beautiful Elvenking, face as smooth as the carved ice crowned by the blooms and branches of spring.

 

***

“Galadriel?”

Celeborn was approaching his spouse, unknowingly he had disintegrated the tension between the two elven magic users. Yet, years and millennia spent together with his beloved wife had made him attuned to any changes on her. Once close to her, he knew the uneasiness and the tension that bleed out from her pores. He touched her gently, wishing his touch to lend her strength and ground her back.

Galadriel flinched minutely upon the gentle touch of her husband but then she relaxed into it. Gathering her wits back and grounding her mind back to the present, she tilted her head toward the elvenking in front of her who merely gazed upon her serenely like nothing happened between them. She offered an apologetic smile to him.

“Apologies, King Thranduil. I have not been wise in my counsel.”

Galadriel bowed her head low. It was such a rare feat from the powerful Noldor whose pride was hard-earned by her great wisdom. It showed her deep regret upon overstepping the boundary she ought to know not to breach. Then she straightened and smiled tenderly, “I wish the starlight shines upon your path and may the star ease your mind and your heart come the dreary time.”

Thranduil was silent for a moment as if judging the elf lady in front of him but then he retaliated. He sighed.

“As you have said, Lady Galadriel. May your heart and your spirit endure during this difficult time.” Thranduil paused and he glanced toward the elf lord behind her before he continued, “Take strength from your beloved heart to keep you straying from the faithful path.”

After that, Thranduil bowed and left, not waiting on any replies from both the elf lady or the elf lord.

 

***

_Bonus scene 1:_

“Enjoying yourself?”

Thranduil embraced Bard from behind, sneaking his arms around the his waist.

Bard was so caught up seeing the great mellyrn trees being lighted up by all the lanterns as the elves started to sing a pleasant hymn so he was surprised.

“Thranduil!”

Bard did jump a little and it was the two strong arms encircled him that had kept him around.

Thranduil did nothing but just tightened his grip and nuzzled the temple of his beloved human.

Sensing something was off by the act of his beloved elf, Bard slowly turned around and faced his elven lover.

“Something is wrong?” He asked softly.

Thranduil said nothing. He just looked down on the man whom he had come to love and cherish. The bowman, who, now was a king. The clothes he wore today was one suited for a king. The modest high-collared brown shirt layered by the deep burgundy velvet tunic , accented with gold embroidery was a masterpiece from the best seamstress that Thranduil himself had picked, brought out the warmth, elegance and nobility. It emphasized the kind and gentle brown eyes, the resilient strength of those broad shoulders, yet softened all the rough edges gained during the difficult time and the struggle whilst being just a lowly bargeman. All in all, it was a very enticing sight for him to feast upon.

“Thranduil?”

Thranduil shook his head. He moved his hand to grab on Bard’s, slowly caressing the calloused palms, the fruit of years of hard labor. He wished with all his heart that Valar heard his prayer and not took this beautiful man away from him. He lifted up both the hands and kissed them gently upon the wrists and murmured,

“Come and dance with me, beloved. Let me have you beneath these lights and let the stars know who hold my heart.”

Bard was blushing by the tender and affectionate acts from the usually composed elf. But he could not feel unhappy. He was embarrassed, yes. But his heart soared high with delight. Feeling giddy and bold, he tiptoed and kissed on the cool yet supple lips lightly.

“Gladly, my king.”

And there, they danced beneath the shining leaves of the Golden Woods, cherishing the love between them.

 

***

_Bonus scene 2:_

Both Celeborn and Galadriel was watching the odd pair of elf and human, dancing beautifully and tenderly beneath the lights. It was clear that the pair was besotted with each other and very much in love. The heartfelt smiles upon their faces was enough to enrapture anyone who saw them.

“What have happened between you and Thranduil, dear?”

Galadriel sighed and shook her head ruefully at her husband question.

“I made a grave mistake, being the nosy, insensitive aunt to your beloved nephew. I may have asked the unwanted question.”

Celeborn nodded in understanding. He took his wife’s hand and held it.

“It was always a rebuke that comes when one feels helpless in one’s kindness to help.”

Galadriel turned to look at her husband and she smiled. Feeling glad that her beloved heart understood her even more than her own mind.

“Thank you, my dearest.”

 

~End~

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note:  
> 1\. The idea of Celeborn as Thranduil’s uncle is inspired by this fic Lord of Lorien written by Evandar (http://archiveofourown.org/works/3107807). The difference is that Evandar wrote Celeborn as the direct uncle of Thranduil but in this fic, I merely refer Celeborn like an elder acquaintance that one should call as uncle.  
> 2\. The idea of Thranduil wields elven magic is caused by the scene where he shows Thorin his past battle scars.  
> 3\. Evandar in the fic Lord of Lorien also depicted that Thranduil has the same skill of Galadriel who in an adept magic user. According to LOTR wikia, Galadriel prowess in magic is said to be in par with Sauron but none said about Thranduil. So I took a freedom to make Thranduil to be as powerful as Galadriel but without any ring power.  
> 4\. The clothes that Bard wear in this fic is inspired by this fanart, http://mixed-bless-ing.tumblr.com/post/109098413102/nobody-in-dale-knows-their-king-has-another-secret. It is truly beautiful!  
> 5\. This little fic was dedicated to elvenandman, who asked for the interaction between Thranduil and Galadriel. Elvenandman had written my prompt request. Please check it out here http://elvenandman.tumblr.com/post/109339219819/do-you-still-accept-prompts-please-write-a-ficlet#notes  
> 6\. I think...I do not portray Galadriel or Thranduil that well. I hope Elvenandman enjoys this piece =]  
> 7\. To all Galadriel fans, please do not hate me. Galadriel is just not my forte.  
> 8\. All the facts stated here were researched in LOTR wikia.  
> 9\. I actually want to insert some elvish but alas, I cannot translate them...any help on elvish translator?


End file.
